


The Martian Wars

by OtakuAngelD



Series: The Emperor and the Doctor [1]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Drug Use, Dubcon or Noncon Moirallegiance, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtakuAngelD/pseuds/OtakuAngelD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the Red Planet, the son of the Galactic Emperor and a young doctor meet. In the horror of war, their lives become entwined forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Martian Wars

Red soil stretched before them. Red as blood. Red as hell. Either was accurate. Osamu didn’t know which more so. He quietly wiped hands as red as the soil upon a white cloth he had been handed. The body upon the table was no longer of any use to them. But he had gotten what was needed from the being before he had finally allowed him to die. 

It was just another day. Another day in this war that had gone on far too long and cost far too much. It had cost the Empire people. It had cost the Martians the same. It had cost him his very soul. Something he didn't often speak of in polite company. Only he wasn’t in polite company right now. 

He was only in his early 20s. At the very beginning of the rest of his life when he had gotten the letter. He had been drafted. He left the medical practice he was just starting to join the Empire’s Medical Corp as a Combat Surgeon. That was three years ago. Three long years on Martian soil, watching friends, comrades, brought down by the Martians. Even with the Empire’s advanced technology, the Martian Tripods were still devastating. He lost more people than he saved. Scrambling from one body to the next, pulling soldiers back from the brink of death. They called him a miracle worker. He just called it his job. Doctors saved lives. That was all there was to it.

At the moment, the Osakan doctor was in thick with the Empire’s army. They had just come from the latest skirmish. Bodies had littered the dirt. People he considered friends slipped away into death despite his best attempts to save them. He had to kill his emotions and turn to the next screaming soon to be corpse and do his best for them as well. All while keeping his ear open for the commands of one soon to be emperor. The man was elegant and he was capable. Nearly 40, but with an air that seemed so much older and more in control. And he was in control. The Prince controlled the chaos like a conductor, turning the screams and the sounds of war into beautiful music.

Osamu could only follow this man and hope he stayed alive. He did not understand why the Prince's father, the Emperor, had sent him there. Perhaps the current Emperor wanted his son to have actual command experience. Or perhaps the toll of the Martian Wars had been enough now that such a sacrifice needed to be made to keep the cause in the minds of the people. Whatever it was, Sakaki Tarou was there and he was magnificent and Osamu was enamored of the man and his abilities.

It was this man who had discovered Osamu’s other special skill set. One that no doctor should possess but every single one of them had. It was just natural for the composed man to sweep into his field hospital and take him by the arm. “Come with me. You are needed.” He had been dragged to where the prisoners were kept. Information was needed. And the prisoner wasn’t talking. He didn’t know if he could. He had made a vow as a doctor. First do no harm. He told the man this. He told the man and Sakaki just looked at him. Put a hand upon his face, lightly stroking his stubbled cheek. “Watanabe, I need you. I need you to do this for me.”

That had been all it had taken. He had nodded and asked that everyone leave. No one needed to see this. No one needed to bare witness to the atrocity he was about to commit.

The interrogation, his first, had lasted for four days. For four days he had tortured the alien being. Slowly. Methodically. His skill at medicine keeping the creature alive long after it should have died. Alive and feeling everything. Four days of screaming. Four days of begging. Four days of pain. But the creature talked. He got the information they needed. There was going to be a Martian supply convoy near Olympus Mons in the next few days. Weapons. He had thanked the creature by silently slitting its throat to put it out of it’s misery before stepping out onto that red soil again to report his findings. It was the first time and it would not be the last.

Not with this war. And not with the charismatic heartless man who led them.

Sometimes, he was certain the man was just outside when he was interrogating. Even though he would send everyone away. No one needed to see this. No one needed to see what happened when he went into that small, sterile area with that strange leather satchel. No one needed to know that he would sit in front of the prisoner and quietly beg him to please do this the easy way. Just please don’t make him do this. It was never enough. And he would take the Medical Corp patch from off his arm and unroll the satchel. Then he would begin. Cutting into beings with a detachment of a man slowly driving nails into the coffin of his own sanity.

When he exited, Sakaki was always the one waiting for him. Always with a smile and a stroke down the spine and a whisper of “Good work.” Praise from a man who praised very little. The Prince was pleased with his work and Osamu would nod and then disappear somewhere, away from the others, to try not to puke. Until the day he didn’t even feel that revolution anymore. Until he started to enjoy it. Until he started to like it. Until he started to want to hear that heartless man tell him he was pleased with him. Until he would go into that tent with a dark, murderous smile on his face.

But Sakaki wasn’t truly all that heartless. He was ruthless, yes, but he also cared for his troops. Osamu knew this. Sakaki felt the loss of the soldiers in the Martian Forward Division more than anyone. Each loss was proof that he did not have what it took yet to be a leader of men. Osamu also knew that what he did in that sterile room was necessary. What he did saved thousands of lives. Even if the rumors around the camp circulated and the nickname became a whisper whenever he passed his comrades by. Even when the others started to avoid him. Stepping out of his way or turning their back as he approached. Avoiding that dark look in his eyes and the invisible stains on his hands. He was a Butcher. A monster. He was alone in a red hellish wasteland full of death and suffering. 

He was alone all except for soon to be Emperor. Instead of avoiding him, the older man took the time to get to know him better.

At night, when the bulk of the unit was sleeping and Osamu sat by the fires unable to sleep, the man would arrive. He would appear out of nowhere and hand him a small drink of something. Alcohol was hard to come by and it was quite a treat. He would accept every time. The alcohol numbed him enough that he would smile normally again and nods towards a spot next to him. Sakaki would slid a hand over his back, across his shoulder in a small friendly stroke and then sit next to him. He would sit and they would talk. 

Sakaki would speak of the Empire. His beloved Empire. The man had such lofty goals for it. It would be a Utopia where no one would have to suffer and there would be no more wars, no more killing, no more torture; because everyone would be a part of it. Everyone would be ruled. The stretch of the vast Empire would quell the chaos in the universe under the iron fist of order and it would all be perfect and glorious. The Empire would spread Order and Reason throughout the universe. He would speak of a son, who was about the same age as the doctor. About how proud he was and how much he missed the boy and how he wanted his Empire to be a lasting legacy for his son. Osamu would marvel once again about how young Sakaki seemed. When the man spoke of such lofty dreams, Osamu would sit and hang onto every word. If this man wanted that, he would get it. And Osamu would do whatever he must to make that a possibility. He wanted, in those moments, nothing more than to make these things a reality.

When it was Osamu’s turn to speak, it was about home. About Osaka. About his practice. Would it still be there? Was he still worthy to be a physician after all he had done? All he would keep on doing? He would sigh and talk of the girl that was waiting back at home for him. When the war was over he was going to go back home. He would return to Osaka and he would marry his childhood sweetheart. He wasn’t even 25 and he had the world ahead of him. When he spoke of this the man’s smile would turn dark and then he would excuse himself. Osamu never understood why. 

Not until after the Battle of Noachis Terra.

It had been brutal. They had lost so many that day. The Tripods had been numerous. More than they had expected. It had been an ambush. Someone had told the Martians they were coming. There was a traitor in their midst! But they hadn’t the time to deal with this yet. Instead, they had to retreat, running back to old camps, claimed years back. Any loss of forward position on Mars meant another 6 months of battle to reclaim it. That had not been their worst loss. Sakaki had been hit. He had been hit and the man was suddenly under his care. He held the life of the man would would become Emperor in his hands. One slip of the scalpel...It would be so easy...

He was no traitor. This man’s death would solve nothing. He shoved aside dark thoughts and worked through the night to bring the man back from the brink. Work that finally finished in the morning. Exhausted, he had been unable to stop Sakaki. The man had awoken. Awoken. Reached up. Reached up and grabbed him.

Pulled down, his mouth was smashed against Sakaki’s. The tongue shoved into his mouth tasted of blood. His own blood, from where Sakaki had bit him to force him to open his mouth. The med kit dropped from his hand and he was suddenly on his back on the ground. Bleeding and desperate. He tried to fight but he was so tired and the man was so strong. Like he hadn’t even been injured. The older man ruined his clothing, ripping them away. Everything after that was more brutal. Brutal and amazing once he just stopped fighting and gave in. They had needed this. This release. It had been months, years, since they had slept with someone. Coupled with the exhilaration of surviving; the result was wildly messy. A hungry, sexual release, ridding them of the fear and the tension and focusing only on pleasure. Sakaki’s powerful form claiming him. Pressing him into the ground, pounding into his over and over until he came. It hadn’t mattered that he was half this man’s age. All that mattered was the burning feeling of that cock in his barely stretched ass. He didn’t realize the screaming had been himself until after Sakaki had left. Left him on the floor, naked and bleeding and covered in cum. Left him to hazily realize that he hadn’t cleared the man for duty.

This too became normal. Frighteningly normal. After a hard battle, after a near death experience, after a torture; Sakaki would seek him out. They would fuck. And eventually Osamu would let him. Eventually, he had stopped fighting and just let it happen. Sometimes, it was even nice. Sometimes the man was even gentle. Especially after a torture session, or when he lost a patient. Times when Osamu was most on edge, teetering on that moment when ending it all seemed like a viable option. Those were the times when the man would take him in his arms. He would hold him close and kiss him tenderly, like a lover would. A hand would slide down into his pants. The handjob helped. Small, sweet nothings in his ear helped. Even being promised that Osamu would never _never_ have to do this again. Never have to torture another person. That they could be together. _Always._ Doctor and patient. They could be like this. Just the two of them. _Forever._ In those moments, Osamu believed him. He clung to those words and that promise because that was his only lifeline. The only thing keeping him sane. That promise. That promise of never again. 

Those moments quickly passed and never became the next time. The commander striding up to him and breathing hotly into his ear, hand against his crotch stroking it softly, telling him there was a prisoner for him. And he would moan...and he would go. For Sakaki. For the lives it would save. And Sakaki would always be right there, waiting for him. Sometimes, he even came in to watch him work. He would see the man pleasure himself out of the corner of his eye while he was methodically breaking every bone in the latest prisoner’s body. He would focus on the task and repeat to himself over and over again; this time they would end the war. This time would be the last time. He could take it, just this one more time.

Until he couldn’t anymore. Until it became too much. Until he was the one waking up screaming, covered in sweat. Until he couldn’t sit by the fire and listen to the plans for the future, plans that now involved him (even if there was an Empress, he would have to be there.) Until the nightmares kept him awake all night long, curled in upon himself. Until he was unconsciously seeking out the commander’s tent in the dark. The man’s bed chased some of it away. The man’s arms held the screaming at bay. Only somewhat. It never went away. 

When the screams in his head finally became too much, it had been in the middle of combat. He collapsed onto his knees, holding his hands over his ears, lasers streaking just above his head. He could hear a laughing. A frightening, detached laughter. It sounded like himself. He was broken. He was going insane. He losing himself to the monster he had created.

Sakaki was there. Sakaki picked him up. Sakaki took him to the med tent. Sakaki lightly pulled out a small white package. The drug he was slipped quieted the voices. It was a godsend. He couldn’t hear it anymore. He couldn’t feel it anymore. There was no madness bubbling up, barely contained. There was no Butcher, desiring to hack things up. There was just blissful nothingness. It was wonderful. 

It also made the sex a lot more interesting. Because he could feel nothing else, he could feel that amazing cock within him more fully. He could feel those arms around him after. He could feel the possessive nip to the back of his neck. It was perfect and amazing and Sakaki seemed to have a steady supply.

The drug made everything better. Everything. He could do everything again, and more. He didn’t have to feel. He didn’t have to care. He just had to do what Sakaki wanted. He would get rewarded when he did. He would get more drugs. He would get to suck that cock and feel those hands clinging and pulling at his longer hair. He could close his eyes and pretend that the war was over. But it didn’t seem like it would ever be over. And worse, news came that the Emperor was on his deathbed.

Sakaki had to return to the Capital. 

When the announcement came, the man had come to him. He had swept in, a termotious look upon his face, as if he was torn. He had said nothing. Just pulled Osamu’s pants off and put him on his lap. While Osamu bounced on his cock, the man finally spoke, whispering about how he wanted to take Osamu with him. How the doctor was his and needed to be in the Capital with him. But how he knew the man was needed there more. The doctor had knowledge. Special, important knowledge that would save everyone, if he just used it. If he just used the things he had learned during his interrogations. And if he did, the war would be over. Just...use the knowledge you have. And when war was over, he would go to the capital. He would get nice drugs there, better drugs. Drugs that would keep the screaming away. He would get to be with Sakaki. But first, first, he had to stay here and win the war. Win the war by any means. That was what Sakaki told him as he came inside of him. Before the man had left to return to the capital and claim his newly minted throne. Win the war. Whatever it took.

He did. Early on, after his interrogations, with the taste of Sakaki’s cock still in his mouth, he had revealed to the man that he might have the means to win. He had said nothing more about it. But that silence and unwillingness to go so far had cost them far too much. Now...Now he could do it. Now, he would do it. Because the Emperor needed a victory. His first days on the throne needed to be graced with victory and peace. So he would do it. He would do it for Sakaki. He would do it for his Emperor. He would use the information he had gotten in the tortures to put the Martian’s greatest weakness against them.

He was quite certain that the news of the Xanthe Virus reached the new Emperor quickly. Xanthe. Named for the place where the man had first fucked him into oblivion on the floor of his forward clinic. And Osamu took the blame for it. Willingly. It wasn’t anyone else. He had not been ordered.The Emperor had nothing to do with it. It had been his idea from the start. It was him and him alone that had murdered the Martians. He alone had created the virus that had killed every male, female and child, in the span of a few weeks. He had single handedly stopped a war and caused an extinction. He made himself a war criminal, all for one man to have his victory.

Yet, he did not return to the capital. Instead, Osamu went home. He went back to Osaka. He went back to his practice. He needed to. He needed to try to make up for the things he had done. He needed to save as many as he could, in repayment for the billions he had killed. Plus, there was a young man there that could get him good drugs on the cheap. There was also woman there he wanted to marry. There was a life he wanted to live. And there was an Emperor somewhere that would surely forget about the scruffy, frightening butcher of a doctor that he had fucked in the heat of battle.

Only the Emperor hadn’t. The man hadn’t forgotten his promises made in that horrible red dirt so far away from home. He had received an order to come to the Capital. With a wife and a young child to care for, Osamu could not refuse. The money would be helpful to his family. It would be helpful to Osaka. He had kissed his wife and son goodbye, promising to return each year to see them.

It had been strange to see the man again. Time had been kind to the man. He was still as handsome, if not more so. Charismatic and then some. He had been taken by the man all over again. It was difficult to remain professional. He managed it because now, there was an advisor who was rather keen. The wrong gesture, the wrong word and the advisor would surely take notice and question. This was the Capital. This was not a military outpost. He was also mostly sober now. His wife had done much to get him to kick the habit that Sakaki had started him on back on Mars. But professional behavior was nearly impossible when they were alone. When he would examine the man and offer him a lollypop for being such a cooperative patient, the man would pull him close. He would nibble his ear and tell Osamu that he too had a lolly for the doctor to suck on and place the man’s hand upon his crotch.

Osamu had to push the man away each time. Look him in the face and tell him that what happened on Mars was a mistake. That it was just the stress and the loneliness and insanity that had driven him to the man’s arms over and over again. That he had a wife. And a child. And he would not be unfaithful. Plus Sakaki had a wife as well. A wife that he hadn’t thought about back on Mars while he was in the throes of pleasure. He would then leave the man. He wouldn’t even look over his shoulder because if he did, he would see the possessive rage on the Emperor’s face.

Perhaps he should have. 

When the news came of the impending Osakan Revolution, Osamu had gone and asked the man to bring his family to the Capital. Sakaki ignored him. He begged on his knees to be allowed to go to Osaka and get them. He was dismissed after being denied. He had gone anyway. He stole a small personal shuttle and run back home. By that time, it was too late. It was just. To. Late.

The body count was high. Just like Mars. He scrambled through the carnage, an angel of mercy. It didn’t matter what side they were on. The injured were the injured. Though some of the Osakans attacked him and called him a traitor to his people for wearing the uniform of the Empire, even they got his attention. No one would die while he was on the battlefield. Each street moving him towards where he knew his family should be. If he could find them, they could work together to save more people. If he could find then, he could send them to the Capital where they would be safe and protected. If he could find them...

He found them all right. His wife. His son. His reason for living. The only things keeping him sane. They were there, in the smoking ruins of his old doctor’s office. They had been shot full of holes. Whatever sanity was left in him shattered that day. He sat there for hours, days, cradling the rotting bodies to him, unable to cry. Unable to move. Unable to function. He’d lost everything to the Empire. His morality. His soul. His family. He lost everything, and only gained more and more pain. He wanted to stop hurting. He wanted to die.

Numbly, he reached for a needle. Then he lay beside the corpses of the woman he loved and the little boy he would never see grow up and closed his eyes. Maybe...maybe the screaming would finally stop.

He woke back on the Empire ship. He woke to his head in Sakaki’s lap, the man stroking his hair. He frown was dark. “You tried to OD.” He informed. “From now on you will take only what I give you.” He tucked a little packet into Osamu’s hand. “I won’t permit you to leave me. You’re mine. Remember that.”

He could only nod, in his haze and fumble with the power he had been given. With this, it would all be okay. He wouldn’t have to deal with the pain ever again. He slipped back into the blissful nothingness the drugs offered him, even as the man kissed him softly. He couldn’t remember what happened once the drug took effect. It was much stronger than the ones he had before. And after, he was handed over to the Advisor. He would need to be taken care of since Sakaki wasn’t about to let him go again.


End file.
